


Ties That Bind

by IAmANonnieMouse, storm_of_sharp_things



Series: Power Games [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Big Surprise we know, Dominance games, Eldredge Knot, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Saito might be a control freak, silk ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/pseuds/storm_of_sharp_things
Summary: Eames wants to play with Arthur and Saito again - good thing they already have plans...
Relationships: Arthur/Eames/Saito (Inception), Arthur/Saito (Inception)
Series: Power Games [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021549
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

> The further adventures of Arthur and Eames and Saito AKA "Good things happen when fic wives write fic together!"

Eames cursed as he knotted his tie using his reflection in the polished elevator door. He was late to his meeting, which, of course, was one of _Saito’s_ meetings. The first meeting, in fact, since the last one three weeks ago that involved a remote control and a trembling, snarling Arthur. 

Eames had spent the last three weeks in Switzerland—bloody Switzerland!—gathering information by day at Saito’s command and wanking himself silly every night to the memories of the noises Arthur had made, the domineering way Saito had controlled them both…

Eames checked his appearance in his reflection on the elevator door and cursed again. Yes, Tokyo traffic was notoriously difficult, but the truth was he hadn’t left himself enough time to get here after indulging in one last leisurely wank in his hotel room. This one had featured the memory of Arthur tensing and glaring every time Eames toyed with the remote control through the rest of that day’s meetings.

Eames sighed and adjusted his tie. Somehow, he doubted Saito would appreciate the truth as an excuse for his tardiness.

The elevator chimed as it reached his floor, and Eames hurried toward the boardroom. The droning voice that drifted through the closed doors told him the presentation had already started. 

So it was to be the walk of shame, then. Eames squared his shoulders and strode inside, heading for the first empty seat he saw while the presenter faltered slightly. At the head of the table, he saw Saito raise an unimpressed eyebrow. Arthur, sitting at Saito’s right hand side, ignored him. Sometimes, he reminded Eames of a tetchy cat, turning his back whenever possible and letting out all kinds of exasperated hisses when provoked. 

Eames slid into his seat and resigned himself to the fact that he was out of luck for any shenanigans during this morning’s meeting. 

The presentation was boring and went on for an eternity, and when it finally ended, Eames stood to leave with everyone else.

“Mr. Eames,” Saito said, voice sharp as a whip. 

Eames swallowed down a sudden rush of hope and sank back into his seat as everyone else filed out of the room, leaving behind only himself, Arthur, and Saito. Eames tried not to think about the last time it was just the three of them in a closed room. 

He was already wondering if Saito had a remote tucked in his pocket to tease Arthur again, but just as his imagination started to get away from him, Saito made an abrupt gesture and led them into his office. Eames followed warily. He was going to be so damn disappointed if this turned into a bloody lecture about his tardiness. 

Arthur smoothly stepped forward and held the door open with a hint of a smirk on his face as Saito gestured to Eames to enter first. Eames obeyed, then turned toward Arthur, a sassy remark ready on his lips, only to find Saito moving into his personal space like an unstoppable force of nature.

Silently, Saito backed Eames further into his office, pinning him against the edge of Saito’s desk. Eames let him, stifling a satisfied grin. He would take any bloody lecture right now, as long as Saito stayed where he was.

“I do not appreciate tardiness, Mr. Eames,” Saito murmured. He took Eames’ tie in his hands and began to loosen it. Behind him, Arthur locked the doors to Saito’s office and sent Eames another smirk. “Nor,” Saito continued, “do I appreciate sloppy knots.” He tugged on the tie to grab Eames’ attention. “Clearly, you require some...instruction.”

Eames bit his lip and stayed still as Siato unknotted his tie, smoothing out the ends to lay flat against Eames’ shirt.

“Arthur,” Saito said without looking away, and Eames saw Arthur cross the office and swing open a wooden panel in the wall. Behind it was a small, tidy closet—and a full-length mirror.

Eames’ throat was suddenly rather dry.

Saito slid his hands up Eames’ chest and cupped the back of his neck, staring down at him thoughtfully for a long moment, his fingertips brushing delicate circles along Eames’ hairline.

“So…” Eames cleared his throat. “Personal style is on the agenda for today, hm?” A thrill went through him at Saito’s sudden, sharp smile, and then Eames was being steered around the furniture in the office until he was standing in front of the mirror, Saito resting against his back with his hands at Eames’ hips. 

Eames grinned at Saito’s reflection; clearly some creative manhandling was indeed still on the menu. He felt the first serious stirrings of arousal and was grateful his trousers weren’t tailored as snugly as Arthur’s tended to be. Although, if he had Arthur’s arse, he would probably make that sacrifice, too.

Saito met Eames’ eyes in the mirror with a faint smile as his fingers stroked down Eames’ chest, lingering at the buckle on his belt before drifting lower. “I do approve of your choice of ties, Mr. Eames,” he says. “Silk has…so many uses.” He bent his head to murmur into Eames’ ear, lips brushing Eames’ skin. “You are an observant man. Surely you have noticed the many knots possible with a fine silk tie.”

Eames blinked, then smirked. “Are we talking a half-Windsor or something a little more…binding?”

Saito huffed an almost-silent laugh, and his questing fingers trailed upwards again to the loose ends of Eames’ tie. With his arms caging Eames in, Saito slowly wove an exquisitely layered knot at Eames’ throat, tightening it just a hair past snug.

“This,” he said, lips brushing Eames’ cheek, “is an Eldredge knot. Is it not elegant?” His hands slid down again, this time stopping at his hips. “For those with eyes to see, wearing this knot would speak so clearly about your…relationships, don’t you agree?”

Eames stared at their reflection in the mirror, then his gaze drifted to Arthur, who was slowly unknotting his own tie, expression anticipatory. 

_Fuck,_ Eames thought. 

“I do hope you were paying _close_ attention, Mr. Eames.” Saito nodded to Arthur, who quickly came over to stand in front of Eames, smirk teasing the edges of his mouth. “I would like to see you duplicate it,” Saito continued. “Now.”

_Double fuck,_ Eames thought as Saito tightened his grip on Eames’ hips, drawing him closer. Arthur stepped in, refusing to let an inch of space grow between them. His stare was a challenge that Eames couldn’t resist.

He took the ends of Arthur’s tie in his hands, trying not to be distracted by Saito’s weight leaning into him, Saito’s long fingers moving in teasing patterns along his hips, then dipping lower again. 

_Over and under to the right_ , Eames thought, _then into the neck loop, right again, back up through the neck loop, then—_

He paused, trying to remember. Arthur just stood in front of him, head slightly tilted, watching Eames expectantly. Challengingly. The bastard knew bloody well exactly how unhelpful he was being, and Eames tugged warningly on the tie ends but it did little more than inspire faint amusement on Arthur’s part.

“I see you were _not_ paying adequate attention, Mr. Eames,” Saito breathed in Eames’ ear, his hips shifting against Eames in the most distracting way. “Once through the loop you’ve formed, then through the neck loop.” Eames fought to concentrate on the strips of silk in his hands, ignoring the way Arthur’s smirk deepened. 

“Then to the right again,” Saito continued. “Around…and through. Just so. Tidy the knot, make it symmetrical.” He hummed his approval directly into Eames’ ear and shifted his hips just a bit more firmly, until Eames’ breath stuttered. He stared at the finished knot at Arthur’s throat and tried to resist the urge to wrap his hands around that silk once more and drag Arthur into his arms.

“Arthur loves to be tied,” Saito murmured, and Eames’ breath caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes darkened as he nodded slightly.

“Might we interest you in…further instruction, Mr. Eames?” Saito asked.

Eames gave into temptation and grabbed Arthur’s tie, pulling him close enough for their lips to brush. “Always,” he breathed, shivering as Arthur’s lips parted to swallow the words. 

Saito hummed and his distracting fingers slid upwards again before reaching past Eames to slowly unknot Arthur’s tie. Arthur’s gaze flicked over Eames’ shoulder to Saito, and the challenging smirk that had plagued Eames this entire time vanished in an instant, replaced with quiet expectation. 

Eames tightened his grip on Arthur’s tie. He wanted to learn how to put that glow in Arthur’s eyes, but he also wanted to drag Arthur’s attention back to himself, challenging stare and all. He wanted more things than he knew how to put into words, but as he watched Saito’s fingers trail down Arthur’s chest, freeing his suspenders then unbuttoning his shirt with almost painful deliberation, he realized that all he wanted right now, in this moment, was to stay like this forever, trapped between them both. 

Saito pulled the tie free from Arthur’s collar and draped it around Eames’ neck before pushing the shirt off Arthur’s shoulders. He crowded even closer to Eames as he unbuttoned Arthur’s trousers, pausing to let Arthur toe off his shoes before pushing the trousers past his hips until they fell to the ground.

Arthur’s eyes darted from Saito to Eames and back to Saito, then he nodded and stepped gracefully out of his trousers.

“Knot the tie around his neck, Mr. Eames,” Saito said, then the heat of his body vanished. Eames resisted the urge to track Saito’s movement in the mirror and instead focused on Arthur’s body and all that lovely skin. 

“Hurry up, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said quietly, a mocking edge to his tone. His face was the picture of serenity, but Eames could feel Arthur’s heart racing when his hands brushed Arthur’s chest. Eames managed the knot without any help this time, although it took longer than he would’ve liked. 

Just as he tightened the tie at the base of Arthur’s throat, Saito said, “Good,” and Eames turned. 

Saito was standing just out of the mirror’s reach, with several lengths of rope in his hands. “Now,” he said, voice low and a little rough, “we can begin.”

Arthur walked past Eames to gracefully climb up and kneel, naked, on Saito’s elegant wooden desk. His hands were relaxed where they rested on his thighs, his eyes downcast. But Eames caught the tiny, secretive smile tucked in the corner of his mouth before it vanished as Saito placed his ropes on the desk at Arthur’s side and cupped Arthur’s face in his hands.

Arthur met his eyes, and they stared at each other for just a moment, exchanging private messages that Eames desperately, greedily wished he could hear.

Then, Arthur’s gaze cut over to Eames. “Get over here, Eames, or get out,” he said. “You’re being rewarded for hard work, bizarre as that sounds.”

Saito chuckled but didn’t chastise Arthur for speaking. Eames smirked and sauntered over to Saito’s side, blatantly admiring Arthur’s naked form. Saito reached out and began unknotting the silk tie from around Arthur’s throat, his fingers brushing tenderly along Arthur’s skin as he worked. Slowly, Arthur’s eyes slid shut, and he let his head arch back to offer Saito more access. He was panting slightly by the time Saito finished, and Eames was this close to joining him.

_Fuck_ , Eames thought. _He’s so bloody beautiful like this._ He itched to have his hands on Arthur, to have Arthur respond to his touch like that.

“Hands,” Saito murmured, and Arthur immediately raised his hands in the air, palms facing each other. Saito hummed his approval and glanced at Eames, eyes hard. “You will learn these lessons well, Mr. Eames, or there will be no more of them. What Arthur offers is a gift, and it is not to be taken lightly.” 

As he spoke, he stroked a finger along Arthur’s jaw and, for a moment, Eames desperately wished he were kneeling on the desk instead, letting Saito’s approval and protectiveness rush over him. But then Eames’ fingers brushed the soft, almost silky rope, and he realized he couldn’t wait to see it against Arthur’s skin.

“Show me,” Eames said firmly, pleased when Arthur responded with a little shiver. 

“We will begin with the proper knots,” Saito said, guiding Eames’ hand to a length of rope. “And then…” He cupped Arthur’s face again and sent Eames a predatory smile. “Then we shall enjoy the results of our labors.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the glory of an Eldredge knot:


End file.
